Long
whenawhere ago, in the ancient and forgotten land of Andrugyngaea, lived
there a renowned Artist of Foods, the great Gourmilayne of Campaspollo.

Gourmilayne
served the Empress Andrugost, Matriarch of all Andrugyngaea, by the
skilled preparation of wondrous and intricate feasts for only the most
special of occasions. There was but one thing to which
Gourmilayne excelled, apart from the creation of culinary wonder, and
that one thing was to eat.

Gourmilayne,
the Great and Renowned Sculptor of Cuisine, could, and would, eat anything.
Gourmilayne would eat pies and meats, fruit and bark, small stones
and bits of leaves in the grass. For all the great Skill which
Gourmilayne possessed, there could not be found one tiniest bit of
companioning gustatory discrimination within.

After
one most marvelous feats, the Empress Andrugost, filled with good and
more than a little of the wine of the age, decided to reward the great
Gourmilayne for such superior effort. In a shriek of laughter,
the Empress proclaimed Gourmilayne to be the Matriarch of all
Andrugyngaea for the entire following day. Though greatly
regretful of her decision in the morning light, an Empress is Bound
in all her Words, and this her proclamation became Law.

Gourmilayne,
was overjoyed.

Gourmilayne
had no love of politics. The great Artist cared not for power or
glory, law or society, sex or riches. Gourmilayne seized the
power of the office of Matriarch with but one, coldly calculated
Purpose; the entire collective wealth of the State could buy one very
great amount of food. So Gourmilayne ate.

Gourmilayne
ate through the morning, while the treasury was liquidated.
Gourmilayne ate through the middle of the day, while the newly
impoverished Mistresses of the court stripped the hillsides of any
last organic matter, trying to satiate such royal appetite.

Through
this all, Gourmilayne swelled and grew, to proportions beyond any
ever seen before or known since.

Gourmilayne
began to blot out the sky.

Gourmilayne
ate through the early evening, scarcely aware in such Gluttony of
mindlessly devouring the now revolutionary armies of the Court, as they
bravely swarmed to defend the last remaining corners of the disintegrating
Empire.

Gourmilayne
ate the Land, and the buildings upon it, drank the lake and ripped
vibrating chunks out of the mountains. Gourmilayne grew, and with
it grew also Gourmilayne's appetite. Gourmilayne ate all of
Andrugyngaea, and all living there. Gourmilayne ate all of
Banglefadrigar, and all the World, and drank the very oceans.

Still
was Gourmilayne unsatisfied, and so the stars were plucked with
swollen paws and forced into the Ravening Maw.

Gourmilayne
ate all the universe, until there was only Gourmilayne filling all
of time and space.

It is
true, after all, that one is what one eats, and Gourmilayne looked
upon a self that literally was the universe.

Gourmilayne's
body was composed of all the stars and worlds and realms.
Gourmilayne saw the universe exactly as it was before!

So it
was then with a sickening realization that Gourmilayne Understood.
If Gourmilayne's body was the universe, then where was Gourmilayne?

Identity
resides in the brain, it is said, and Gourmilayne's head fell in a gutter.
Children, unknowingly, kicked it until it was lost in the forest,
where it was ultimately eaten by ants.